Paradox
by Sjutton
Summary: When nearly all of Toris's clothes get ruined in the wash, he calls up his good friend and fashionista Feliks to ask him to help him shop for some new ones. Feliks, of course, insists that they go to the mall. All's in good fun until they meet a certain someone that's bent on getting their blood.


Toris put his palm on his forehead, grimacing as he evaluated his options.

 _He's the only person you can call in this situation, and you know it_ , his conscience whispered in his ear tauntingly.

The man flopped back on the couch and stared at the ceiling, squinting through the bright December sunlight streaming from the window behind him.

"Feh!" Toris hissed, abruptly yanking his hand through his bangs rather violently and cursing under his breath in his native language of Lithuanian. He reached for his little outdated flip-phone on the coffee table in front of him, punching in a series of numbers he knew all too well.

He huffed, putting the phone to his ear and waiting for the recipient to pick up. The dull dial tone was cut off by a second of silence, signalling that the phone call had successfully gone through.

"Yo, 'sup, Tor?" A rather obnoxious voice with a discernible Polish accent drawled from the phone.

"Hey, Feliks," he sighed, resting his elbows on his knees and tugging at a lock of his coffee-coloured hair. "I... Uhm, I need your help with something..."

"Hm? What is it?" his friend purred, rather seductively.

Toris exhaled deeply, dreading the words he was about to say. "Well, you see, I put a huge load of clothes in the wash a few hours ago, and went to do homework in my dorm while I waited for them. When I went to check on them, they all had these huge weird stains that were lighter than the rest of the fabric surrounding it. I checked the bleach dispenser, and, well, I discovered that someone had left chlorine bleach in there, a-and—"

"Really? What a jerk!" Feliks huffed loudly. "If I find out who it was, I'll, like, totally get 'em back for you!"

"O-okay, well, uh, I don't really have too much to wear anymore, so I was going to ask if you would help me shop for new clothes sometime this weekend...?"

The line went silent, which made Toris panic and wonder if the Pole had ditched him. "I-it's alright if you don't want to, I just wanted to ask b-because, you know, you're g-good at that k—"

" _Toris Laurinaitis, like, when would I ever_ not _want to go shopping_?" Feliks screeched, quite nearly making Toris fall off the couch.

"I-I, uh—"

"Your closet, like, totally needs some clothes that actually look good, anyways! I'll meet you by the front of the school by one o'clock, pronto! Twenty minutes, chop chop!"

"W-wait, what? Hello?!" Toris shouted, holding up the device to see that Feliks had already ended the call.

Several students walking by on the road under Toris's window were shocked as a wave of loud profanity streamed from the tiny dorm.

* * *

Precisely a third of an hour later, Toris arrived at the small square that served as the school's front entrance. He looked around, seeing no one but a small, blonde-haired girl sitting on a bench up front, her head down and back to him. He moved to go lean against the brick wall of the school before doing a double-take and squinting at the girl.

 _It couldn't be_...

Toris jogged to the right to see the person's face, and immediately sighed through a chuckle.

"I should've known," he murmured under his breath as he ran and made himself visible to the figure on the bench.

"Feliks!" He called, getting the blonde-haired 19-year-old to look up from his pastel pink phone.

"Tor! Yo!" He said, standing up just as Toris reached him.

The Lithuanian teen evaluated his friend's outfit as he caught his breath. The Pole was wearing a rosy pink cashmere sweater with sleeves that hung past his hands, and a pair of periwinkle skinny jeans that were obviously from the women's section. He also wore a pair of magenta flats adorned with little jewels, which Toris felt like he had seen before at the Nordstrom Rack. He had put a thin layer of black eyeliner on, and Toris smiled when he saw that, to top it all off, his friend had painted his nails his signature bright pink.

"You look nice," he commented while straightening his shirt.

"Thank you! I just got this sweater last week, isn't it so totally fabulous? Ooh, and it's just _so_ soft! Like, just feel it!" Feliks gushed, holding out his arm.

Toris ran his hand down the material. "Hmm," he nodded in agreement.

"See? Like, isn't it great? I bought, like, three different colours too, because these things are just so perfect for the holidays! Beats the ol' T-shirts any day!" He smirked, elbowing Toris playfully as he walked by him. "Follow me, my car is over here."

"H-hey, this is pretty much all I have left to wear!" Toris huffed as he followed his friend.

Six minutes later, the two had squeezed into Feliks's dingy Fiat, and were now sitting in a long line of traffic on the main road. There had been an elephantine accident farther down the road, and only two lanes were open.

"Are we really going all the way to the mall in this traffic?"

"Like, duh. You're the one who asked me to help you shop." Feliks responded, tapping his fingers on the edge of the wheel subconsciously. "So, did you really ruin, like, everything?"

Toris considered complaining about Feliks's abrupt subject change and not getting to properly defend himself, but he decided to just sigh and move on. "Yeah, most of it. I still have a couple more old T-shirts and another pair of jeans, I guess. But—"

"Agh, why won't these stupid cars hurry up?" Feliks yelled angrily, pummelling the car's horn like it was a punching bag.

Toris shook his head with an amused grin. What should've he expected? His friend was known for interrupting other people with his own antics.

* * *

The remaining thirty minutes of the car ride went by with Feliks blathering on about how much he hated traffic and Toris half listening while he played a game on his little flip-phone. When the little car finally pulled into a spot in the back of the local mall's parking lot, Toris yawned and clambered out, leaning against the car as he waited for Feliks.

"Oh gosh, we haven't gone to the mall together in, like, forever, so I'm going make sure you have a closet that's envied by everyone after this!" Feliks chattered as he got out, locking the car and dashing ahead. "C'mon!"

The inside of the mall had been thoroughly decorated for Christmas that year. Multicoloured lights had been strung atop of every store, and decals of snowmen and reindeer had been stuck in many shops' windows. The whole place smelled of gingerbread and candy cane mochas (thanks to the Starbucks around the corner from the entrance), and joyful Christmas tunes played softly from the speakers, adding to the ambiance. Hundreds of people strolled around chatting merrily to one another, nearly every one of them dressed in heavy winter clothing. To top it all off, a huge Christmas tree had been placed in the centre of the mall's square, decorated with glass bulbs, tinsel, and lots of various ornaments.

"Damn," Toris breathed, feeling an instantaneous calming sensation settling in his body.

"I know, right?" Feliks said as he leisurely strolled alongside his friend, taking a deep and slightly shaky breath of the scented air. "They always decorate—"

He started to clear his throat loudly, making Toris glance over at him with a slightly concerned expression. When his fair-haired companion opened his eyes, Toris could see a hint of fear flicker across his face before disappearing.

"I, uh, s-sorry about that." He murmured. "Like, what I was going to say—"

"Feliks, are you alright?" Toris said quietly, staring at him sympathetically.

The shorter man looked up at him, the corner of his lip twitching slightly.

"Y-yeah, it's just... I didn't think there would be quite so many people here today, and, like, my anxiety's working up on me a bit..." He murmured into his sweater, his chin-length hair falling into his face and covering his downcast, brooding expression as he continued to inch forward.

"Hey," Toris said softly, putting a hand on the man's trembling shoulder and pulling him to his chest. "It'll be alright. I'll do all the talking, if you'd like."

"N-no, it's okay... It just fazed me a little bit at first, t-that's all..." His friend said, pushing his hair back and gulping as he stood up straight.

Feliks had been struggling with social anxiety his whole life; however, he had been getting better in more recent months. He could, for the most part, talk to a single stranger without too much fear, but he still tended to shy away from huge social situations, such as huge parties and amusement parks. If he ever ended up being the centre of attention, he would freak out and stand completely still while shivering uncontrollably. Toris hated to see his friend like that, so whenever, say, a school dance rolled around, the Lithuanian would always hang out with Feliks at the Pole's family's place so he wouldn't be lonely.

Toris shook his head slightly, pulling himself out of his deep chain of thoughts.

"So, uh, where to?" He asked in an attempt to change the subject.

"H&M okay for our first stop? I'm dying to check out their new winter collection! I've heard that it's one of their nicest seasonal collections so far. Tor, I bet you'd simply love some of the things there!" Feliks babbled as he twirled a lock of his golden hair, all signs of sadness gone. It was like he had forgotten all about the other people in the mall, and that it was only the two of them lounging in Feliks's dorm like they normally did on Saturdays.

"Eh... You think so?" Toris asked questioningly, pursing his lips. "I've actually never been there."

Feliks turned to him with a shell-shocked expression plastered on his face. "You're kidding."

Toris didn't even have time to reply before Feliks grabbed his arm and started pulling him down one of the mall's many winding hallways, shouting with glee. "I'm showing you everything!"

Toris let himself be dragged along, smiling weakly at the many people giving them strange looks.

Toris saw the store coming up ahead, and Feliks wasted no time yanking him inside after him. He paused to glance around the rather large store, and immediately skittered to the racks under a huge sign that read 'Winter Wears' in dark blue.

"Oh, hey, Feliks!" Toris looked over to see a tall, brown-haired woman wearing a H&M nametag waving at his friend.

"Yo, Elizabeta!" the blonde responded as his friend walked over to them.

"You doing alright?" she asked.

"Yep! I'm so glad you're here; we actually decided to come today because Toris here went and, like, ruined all his stuff in the wash."

"Oh, that's simply horrible!" Elizabeta said dramatically, putting a hand to her chest in horror and looking up at Toris sympathetically. "I'm so sorry!"

"Uh, well, it's not like I really had anything too fancy, anyways. It was mainly just plain shirts and jeans."

"Wait, that's all you have?! Hon, we must find you some better clothes!"

"W-well, I'm kind of on a budget—"

He never got to finish his sentence, because Elizabeta had put a long, manicured finger to his lips. "Ssh. Just stay put, and we'll find some things for you."

The two fashionistas immediately got to work shuffling through the many racks of clothes in the store, chatting with each other and Toris as they worked.

"Hmm... Ooh, Tor, you'd look great in this!" Feliks said, tossing him a black turtleneck with a green-and-white pattern embroidered across the chest.

"Try this!" Elizabeta exclaimed, throwing him a red plaid button-up.

"What about this?" Feliks grinned, holding up a dark grey miniskirt.

"I am _not_ wearing a skirt."

"Heh, like, just kidding!" Feliks said, sharing a snigger with Elizabeta and dropping the garment in his own pile. "Now shoo, go try on those clothes!"

Toris grimaced as he turned to go to the fitting rooms.

"Wait, one more thing!" Elizabeta called.

Toris looked back just in time for a pair of black cargo pants to hit him in the face.

* * *

An hour later, Toris was sitting up against a wall, his knees pressed up to his chest and his head resting on one of them groggily. "Guys... I think I've tried on enough clothes for right now..."

It was true—the poor Lithuanian felt like he had tried on every outfit in the store. From leggings to flannels to ugly Christmas sweaters, Toris had only found a few things he had taken a liking to. The garments sat in a measly pile next to him, folded neatly by the man himself. On the contrary, the clothes that he hadn't taken a liking to lay in a pile on the 'rejection rack', as Elizabeta called it.

Elizabeta saw his fixed, slightly puzzled expression, and perhaps she was taking pity on the poor college student when she chuckled and smiled. "It's cool, lighten up! You gonna buy those?"

She pointed at the tiny stack of clothes, which Toris grabbed, standing up and holding them to his chest. "D-depends how much they are, I guess... I don't have too much to spend w-what with college fees and all..."

She nodded and pointed her thumb to the woman working the cash register. "I'm gonna go take Michelle's place over there so I can get you guys on the way out."

"Well, I'm, like, getting this, and this, and this..." Feliks chattered, holding his large pile of clothes down on his knee and pawing through them with hearts in his eyes. "Ah, I've been saving up for the entire semester to buy these..."

Toris pulled his blabbering friend across the store to wait in line.

"Weird... I don't, like, remember seeing anyone else come in..." Feliks said, peering around the woman in front of them.

"Probably because you were too busy looking through cat shirts to notice." Toris muttered, earning a shove from his friend.

"Psh, I was not!" The blonde-haired man huffed, straightening a shirt in his pile so the feline face on it wasn't visible.

Once the two got to the front of the line, Feliks handed his stack of items to Elizabeta, handing over a credit card and a huge stack of coupons before she even asked.

"Thanks, Feli." She said as she swiped and returned his credit card, putting his clothes in a paper bag and pushing it over.

Toris then presented his few garments, refusing to watch the little screen totalling up their prices.

"One-hundred-ten dollars and twenty-two cents."

Toris's cheeks quickly heated up as he bowed his head and shakily reached for his wallet. He knew very well that he didn't have that kind of money to spend—heck, he couldn't even afford a good phone—but he also knew that if he offered to put any of the clothes back, he suspected that a certain Polish friend of his very well might kill him. Feliks and Elizabeta had just spent an entire hour searching for clothes for him, so what excuse did Toris have to refuse buying them?

He withdrew his credit card and handed it to her, taking a deep breath.

She swiped it and tapped a few keys on the keyboard, then handed him his credit card back. "Accordig to your information, you have twenty dollars in H&M credit. Do you wanna use it?"

Toris pursed his lips slightly. He had never shopped at H&M, so how the hell did he have store credit?

"I'll take that as a yes." She said, winking as she put Toris's purchases into a big paper bag with the store's logo printed on the side. "Have a fantabulous day!"

Toris nodded, taking the bag and following Feliks out the door. He turned to look at the shorter man, pondering whether to ask if he knew anything about the mysterious credit.

Feliks caught his gaze, smiling slyly up at him. "Late birthday present. You're, like, totally welcome."

"Wow, thank you! You totally saved me!" The brown-haired man said gratefully, brushing the hair out of his face.

They stood in silence for a second before Toris glanced over at his friend, who was squinting at something in front of him. He followed his gaze to see an advertisement that read, ' _Fresh Paluszki – Find it in the Food Court_! 'Toris knew that Feliks loved the traditional Polish snack, and guessed that it was only a matter of time until his friend brought the poster to light.

Feliks glanced over and saw Toris looking at the ad too. "You wanna go get some?"

"Knew you would ask that." Toris said through a smirk.

He gestured to their right, where several more hallways of shops branched off. "The food court is somewhere over there, right?"

"I think so." Feliks said, turning to walk in the direction Toris had pointed out. "Yeah, there's a sign above this hallway."

The two friends made their way down the wide hall, Feliks chattering happily and pointing out things in the windows of the shops they passed by.

When they were in close proximity of the food court, Toris's friend's chattering suddenly stopped. Toris glanced back at him, and was confused to see him still as a board, his face a ghostly white.

"Feliks?"

The Polish man shook his head slightly, staring straight ahead with wide, unmoving eyes. Toris followed his gaze to see—

Toris nearly choked. Sitting at one of the many tables in the cafeteria, eating a Subway sandwich, was someone that sent shivers down his spine.

The man was tall and lanky, with hair so light it could easily be mistaken for white; and the most abnormal piercing purple eyes. His skin was very, very pale; it was obvious that this man rarely ever saw the sun. He wore a small smile that, at first glance, seemed innocent as a baby's; but if you stared at it long enough, it appeared sinister and twisted—the smile of killers.

Except this man was no killer—well, at least, Toris didn't know if he had killed anyone yet. Toris didn't know much about this man as a whole, in fact. All he knew was that his name was Ivan Braginsky, he was two years elder to the both of them, he had transferred to his college from Russia with his two sisters, and that he was staring straight at them.

"Feliks!" Toris yelled at his petrified friend, tugging on the poor teen's sweater and starting to slowly move back down the hall. "We need to get out of here!"

The Russian man had gotten up from his chair, and was now straightening his long tan double-breasted coat. His lips stayed in their deadly, unmoving smile as he started taking huge strides towards the two friends, boots clicking conspicuously against the mall's marble floor. Toris thought he saw something silver glint from inside his coat, and he was definitely not in favour of finding out what it was.

"Feliks! Come on!" Toris pleaded, staring at him with a frightened expression and pulling harder on the teen's arm. His voice's pitch rose steadily with worry, and his feet were itching to get away.

There was no other choice. Toris grabbed the anxiety-ridden teen's wrist and started to literally drag him down the hall, trying to get him to move his feet.

Feliks stumbled before finally pulling himself out of his stupor and starting to run along with his friend.

Toris tried to follow the path they had taken earlier, but he found out that they must've taken a wrong turn somewhere when they rounded a corner to see a short hallway with a blank stretch of wall at the end of it. A dead end.

The hallway exhibited nearly every characteristic of a stereotypical abandoned corridor in the average horror movie. It was very dark, slightly musty, and instead of being in disrepair, it appeared to be in the middle of a remodelling. Concrete blocks lay in piles on an expanse of blue tarp covering a section of the mall's drab marble floor, and several panels in the ceiling had been removed, exposing tangles of multicoloured wires.

To top it all off, the two college students could hear the leisurely little clicks of a certain pair of boots from around the corner.

Toris spit out a quiet curse as he shakily flattened himself and a terrified Feliks against a wall. That bloody Russian is taking his frickin' time 'cos he knows he's got us cornered.

He gave Feliks a grim look. They weren't getting out of that mall without dealing with Ivan—in fact, he wasn't even sure if they would ever get out of the mall to begin with.

Toris glanced down the hallway once more, spotting a thin white door at the end of the hallway that he hadn't noticed before. He wondered what it was—possibly it was a utility closet? A storage room? An exit?

He decided that it would be better to find out what it was than stay here with their enemy just a few paces away. Toris quickly tiptoed around the construction, guiding a quivering, uncoordinated Feliks as well. He tried the doorknob, and was relieved to find it unlocked. He pushed themselves inside, shutting the door as quietly as he could in a silent hallway.

The two friends found themselves staring down a long, narrow corridor. Rusty metal pipes stretched across above them, and the walls and floor were made of a chipped grey concrete. The air was dank and musty, and Toris could hear a low buzz of noise from an obscure source.

Were they... Behind the wall?

Toris had no time to confirm his thought, due to the loud sound of footsteps coming closer.

"Run," Feliks hissed.

Toris didn't even have to be told. He bolted down the corridor, twisting and turning corners with Feliks at his heels. He could hear the rumble of voices clearly now, confirming his suspicion.

It was but a few seconds later when the two found themselves at a dead end.

Toris felt like he'd been kicked. He wanted to punch the wall in frustration, but opted to take a deep breath and flatten himself against the wall. Feliks cowered behind him, clutching Toris's arm like he always did when he was scared or nervous. Their bags were dumped at their feet.

Toris mentally slapped himself, too shaken to move. Why the had they gone back here? There were no witnesses, and no one to call for help! Ivan could do anything to them, and not a single soul would be there to watch. They were cornered.

Toris spit out a long stream of curse words in a mix of Lithuanian, English, and bits of Polish he had picked up from around him. He could hear the click of Ivan's boots echoing off the drab concrete walls, getting closer every second. What was he to do? Toris knew nothing about how to defend himself in this situation, much less defend another person as well.

He grit his teeth as he heard the footsteps pause, and he could've sworn his heart skipped a beat when Ivan's pale face appeared from around the corner.

"Toris! Feliks! Hello!" Ivan said through a thick accent. "It has been a while since we last talked. How are you two doing?"

"W-what do you want?" Toris stuttered in a low voice, disregarding Ivan's question.

"Just to asking a question of you two." Ivan said in imperfect English.

Toris gulped as the Russian came closer, his chilling smile as wide as ever. "It was too far speaking to you from over there."

Toris winced. He could feel the bruises on his arm forming as his friend clung to it for dear life.

The man casually leaned against the wall, his eyes flicking from Toris's to Feliks's. "Is it correct to say that you know my sister, Natalya?"

Natalya. Yes, Toris knew her. She was a gorgeous girl with long, blonde hair and deep navy eyes that shone like the midnight sky. She could be a bit weird at times; he often glanced over at her during class to immediately be met with a scowl. Despite this, Toris couldn't help but have a crush on her and her beauty.

"Yes, why...?" Toris said, rounding up his thoughts and biting his lip.

"Well, I was going to ask you this on Friday, but she would liking to know if you would go to the dance with her next week."

Toris started, his mouth opening slightly in surprise.

"Uh..."

Toris wouldn't lie—that was the last thing he expected to come out of Ivan's mouth. Feliks had tensed behind him, presumably worried about Toris's response.

Toris gulped. Half of him wanted to accept the offer, but the other half knew that Feliks would be lonely if Toris went. Besides... Ivan's offer seemed a little bit fishy. If she wanted to go with him, why wouldn't she just ask him herself?

He grimaced, sharing a look with a trembling Feliks. "I just... I don't really do dances."

"Hm, well, that is very unfortunate." Ivan sighed. "I did not want to end up having to doing this, but she told me I must. I guess there is no other choice."

The man reached inside of his coat, slowly pulling out a long metal pipe with an old-fashioned tap protruding from the top.

Toris had been aware that Ivan and his sister were very close, but he had no idea Ivan would go this far.

He spared a glance at his friend, and was horrified with what he saw. Feliks was frozen to the spot, quivering slightly. His pupils shone with alarm and terror, and his breath came in short, shallow hitches.

A panic attack.

Toris was disgusted with himself. This was all his fault. He had led them into this trap, and he was the reason Ivan was after them anyways. The brown-haired teen trembled with anger, his knuckles going white as he clenched his hand in a tight fist.

It was with this blinding anger that he lunged forward and attempted to sock the other man in the face. His attack, however, was dodged easily; Ivan had swerved to the side, causing Toris to nearly fall over.

"You really thinking you can get me that easily?" Ivan laughed, shaking his head and muttering something in what Toris presumed to be Russian. "Silly boy."

With expertise skill, Ivan shot forward and whacked Toris's head with the steel pipe forcefully, hooking the curved part of the pipe around his neck and flinging him into the corner of the hallway.

"Say you will come with me with no struggling, and you will not be hurt." He rasped, looming over Toris with murder in his eyes.

Toris's vision was hazy from the blow to his head. Goosebumps began to form on his arms as he broke out in a cold, nervous sweat. In his peripheral vision, he noticed a space between Ivan's arm and thigh that he thought might be big enough for him to slip through. He took a deep breath, acting like he was about to say something, then pushed himself through the opening. Ivan had somehow been caught off-guard, and he scrambled to grab hold of Toris's ankles. The teen easily shook his hands off, quickly standing up and glancing to the end of the corridor for his friend to see that—

He wasn't there.

" _Don't fucking touch him_!" Feliks screeched as he pushed himself forward, attempting to sock Ivan in the nose but faltering at the last second.

"Oh, beat it, pony boy," Ivan snarled, grabbing the Pole's wrist and flinging him into the concrete wall, where he crumpled and fell to the floor with a gasp.

"Feliks!" Toris yelled, surging forward to try and get to his side.

"Oh no you don't," Ivan muttered, yanking the brown-haired man back and pinning him two feet up the wall by his neck. "I am not finish with you."

Toris writhed under Ivan's grip, his heart hammering in his ears as he felt the other man's fingers press harder into the sensitive flesh of his throat.

"You. Natalya telling me how you keep staring at her in the middle of class when she is trying to working. She asked me to find you."

Toris strained against Ivan's grip, his mind buzzing with questions. "W-wh—"

Ivan pressed his fingernail into the other's neck sharply, causing him to gasp for air. "I am going to make you pay for disturbing her learnings."

"I do no such thing! Let me go!" Toris sputtered, kicking and pulling at Ivan's hand with what little energy he had left.

"I still have a bit of extra bleach from filling all of the washing machines... Maybe a nice throat-burning would shut you up?" Ivan muttered quietly, his eyes flashing.

Toris's wide emerald eyes were blank for a moment as he comprehended what Ivan had just said, before they filled with realisation and abhorrence. His lips pulled back into a snarl as he continued his futile attempts to struggle out of the other's grip.

Ivan chuckled wolfishly, his eyes flashing an eerie indigo. "I'm only kidding. I am saving the bleach for princess boy over there."

Toris gasped as hot blood coursed through his veins, clawing at the fingers strangling him and spitting out obscene insults in Lithuanian. He was not going to let this—this _murderer_ —do that to his friend.

He felt the fingers close tighter around his throat, completely cutting off his air. He closed his eyes firmly as he felt his face heat up in grave terror. He could feel and hear his heart racing in his ears as his head twitched uncontrollably, his throat making sharp guttural sounds as he desperately tried to get air.

 _This can't be happening this isn't real he's going to kill—_

All of a sudden, he was aware of a loud yell coming from his left. He strained to look over and was stunned when he saw Feliks—meek, diffident, docile Feliks—charging towards them like a bear. His face and body appeared to be rather cut up and bloody, and his eyes flamed with loathing and detestation as he drew back his fist and slammed it into Ivan's appalled face.

The fair-haired Russian howled, stumbling as he clutched at his nose with one hand. His grip on Toris's neck faltered momentarily, just long enough for the teen to slip through his fingers and fall to the ground as Feliks pounced forward, shoving the other man to the ground and kicking his back. He continued to punch and claw at him, his fingernails and hands quickly dirtying with foreign blood.

Toris could only watch, paralysed, as the friend he once thought was delicate and unable to fight beat the life out of a man nearly twice his size. Feliks's eyes showed no mercy as he pummelled the Russian below him, who was only weakly flailing in a dire attempt to fight back.

Not much later, Ivan's feeble movements stopped completely. Feliks sat on his haunches triumphantly, attempting to brush off the blood staining his sweater and jeans and turning to look at Toris with a victorious grin.

"I-Is he dead?" Toris rasped as he stumbled over to the body, his head throbbing like mad. He wasn't sure if he wanted the answer to be 'yes' or 'no'.

"Nah, just unconscious," Feliks replied, pushing his hair behind his ear as he caught his breath. "I told you I was gonna get back whoever put the bleach in your washing machine."

They looked at each other rather awkwardly for a minute, before Feliks held out his hand. "D'you think we should go before he wakes up?"

"T-t-that's probably a good idea," Toris stuttered, taking his friend's bloodied hand.

All of a sudden, Feliks's hand went to his back as he twirled Toris around, leaning in and tenderly pressing his lips to the other's mouth.

Toris jumped and flushed a deep red at the unexpected contact, freezing in place. The tips of his ears burned in embarrassment and surprise as Feliks pulled away and winked, the corners of the Pole's mouth lifting slightly despite the grim mood.

"I promised myself I would do that if we got out of this, and you know... I'm not one to break promises." Feliks said dreamily, energy still sparking in his eyes from the attack as well as the exchange of affection. He stood on his toes again and, with lips just as soft as before, kissed the purple marks on Toris's neck left from Ivan's grip. Toris heard him murmur something under his breath, but he couldn't quite pick up the words.

"W-what did you say? I m-missed it..."

The Pole cast him a sideways glance as he grasped tighter onto his hand. "Don't worry about it. It wasn't anything important."

No more words were exchanged as the two jogged down the corridor, away from the blood and terror and back to reality.

* * *

Toris took a deep breath, clutching his few books and supplies to his chest. He nervously peered into his business calculus classroom, and sighed in relief when he saw that it was empty but for a few people. He walked inside and weaved through the many empty desks until he reached the very back of the room, where Feliks was slumped down in his chair, chewing gum and playing Tetris on his phone. He had several Band-Aids plastered to his face, which were all pink except for a bigger neutral-toned one covering the bridge of his nose and his lower middle forehead.

"Hey," he said, not even bothering to look up from his phone.

"Good morning," Toris responded, sliding into the desk next to him and itching at his own bandages on his neck and grimacing. "Thanks for lending me this sweater on such short notice."

Feliks glanced over, taking in the forest green sweater that matched his own purple one. "No problem, broski."

Toris nervously tapped his foot, his mind buzzing with dread and another feeling he couldn't quite put a name to.

He looked at his friend—boyfriend?–from the corner of his eye and saw that he had returned to his game, his lacklustre eyes darting across the screen rather apathetically.

That was it—he felt bleak. Bleak and desolate.

"God damn it, Feliks, how the hell are you not worried?" Toris exploded, his eyebrows furrowed with panic. "He's probably gonna corner us in some empty hallway or something, and then he's gonna—agh, I don't even want to know!"

Toris dropped his head against the desk with a strangled sob, his arms spilling over the desk. He heard a little click from Feliks's iPhone, signalling that he had turned it off.

"Hey, like, look, I'm just as worried as you are." Feliks muttered, sighing dreadfully. "I just, like, don't know what to do. Dude, I still can't believe he was gonna, like, kill you..." Feliks whimpered, his lips pressed into a firm line.

"C-can we please not talk about this now?" Toris gulped and shivered, feeling his eyes fill with tears.

 _Hands at his throat. Strangling him. Cruel laughter as the coppery, earthy scent of blood fills the air. Toris, suffocating and unable to speak, forced to watch as his only and best friend gets beaten and tortured at the hands of a certain cold-blooded killer_ —

"Toris? Toris!"

The brown-haired man's eyes flew open to see his Polish friend shaking him worriedly, eyes shining with concern. "What was that? Are you okay?"

He groggily sat up, his heart pounding relentlessly as he gathered his thoughts. He took a deep breath, his core convulsing rather violently as he tried to calm himself. He had been blacking out at random intervals over the past two days, his mind delving into the heinous recollections of Saturday and twisting them to make new 'memories' two times as horrendous.

"Okay, I'm taking you to the nurse." Feliks said, pulling him up and draping the taller man's arm over his own shoulder.

"W-what? I'm fine, don't worry about me, I don't need to go, it's okay..." Toris sputtered, shivering at the goosebumps quickly forming on his arms.

"Dude, you were out for, like, two minutes. Plus, you're shaking like a level six earthquake!" Feliks exclaimed, pausing in the doorway to turn to the few other people in the classroom. "Sadiq, could you, like, do me a favour and please tell Mr. Kirkland where we went?"

The guy nodded slightly, to which Feliks replied with a flat, hurried smile as they left the classroom. Toris could hear the group whispering among one another, and he was pretty sure he caught the words 'mental' and 'insane' as the two walked out of earshot of the conversation.

The next hour went by in a blur. After Feliks explained that he didn't know Toris's condition, the nurse tried to get Toris to tell her what was ailing him. He didn't want to have to explain what was actually happening to him and why, so he decided to put the blame of his blackout on a simple headache. She gave him a cup of water and told him to go lie down in the other room. He did so, curling up in a ball and trying to forget about his worries.

However, the agonising visions kept coming. Several times the nurse had to come in to check on him, asking if something was wrong and if there was anything she could do to help. Each time, he blamed his quiet sobs and convulsive shivers on the pain of his headache.

Inside, his tired, overworked mind ran in a never-ending loop of terrifying scenarios of what could've happened if they hadn't escaped. Over and over again, the sound of Ivan's cold, merciless laughter etched itself deeper into his mind, making him want to beat himself, bite his tongue, anything to make the harrowing memories go away. Toris felt like he was going insane.

* * *

Toris had been in the nurse's room for about two hours when he heard a quiet knock at the door. He muttered the words 'come in', and the door cracked open to show the nurse's head.

"Toris, there's someone here who says she needs to speak to you very urgently. Is it all right if she comes in?"

The Lithuanian rubbed his tired eyes, sitting up on the cot and leaning against the wall. "Sure."

The door opened wider to reveal a tall, curvy young woman with soft blue eyes and short, light blonde hair. Toris had never met her, but he felt like he recognised her for some reason. She came over to sit on the cot across from his, brushing her hair out of her face.

"Hey," she began, a smile crossing her face. "You may have seen me around before... I'm Katyusha, Ivan's other sister."

Toris gaped at her, his throat constricting as he slid over the back of the cot and flattened himself against the wall, holding his fists in front of his chest in a feeble attempt to have some defence.

"Hey, don't freak out, I'm not going to hurt you." Katyusha said, her eyes darkening with unease at her next words. "I actually came to talk to you about... Him. Ivan."

Toris bit his lip as Katyusha put her hands up, showing that she wasn't hiding anything. He inched back to the cot and perched precariously on the edge, his thighs closed tightly together.

"Alright, well, I'll start off with saying that Ivan's always been very protective of Natalya and me. We're the only family he has left, and he would lose it if something happened to one of us. He's so protective that, as you experienced Saturday... He'll go after someone for something as small as, in your case, looking at one of us for too long during class. In addition to this, he's also being treated for... Well, how should I put this? Murderous tendencies. He'll sometimes just get the unexplainable urge to, well, murder people.

Now then, every Friday, we all get together just to, you know, hang out and talk about stuff as a family. Natalya was talking about her courses, and she threw out the fact that she noticed you always looking at her in Creative Writing. I think she found it quite humorous, actually. Neither of us thought much of it, but Ivan was very, well, sensitive for the rest of our time together. He would jump at the slightest touch, and he stuttered—he never stutters."

Katyusha cleared her throat. "I think that was when his thoughts about you went sour. He had to leave our get-together early, claiming he had to 'buy some milk'. I think that was when he got the bleach."

Toris sighed, looking down at his borrowed sweater. "He knew that Feliks would want to go to the mall to buy clothes, because that's just how Feliks is. And he put up an ad for one of Feliks's favourite foods right outside of H&M... God, I should've known something was up..."

Katyusha put her hand on his shoulder in sympathy. "You had no way of knowing. Oh, and by the way, I'm so sorry about your clothes. Did you ever end up actually getting more?"

"Well, we did, but we forgot about them 'cos we just wanted to get out of there before he regained consciousness."

"Ah, well, do you want any money or anything to compensate?" Katyusha asked, concern and consideration sparkling in her eyes.

"E-eh? No, it's okay. It wasn't too much..." Toris lied, a fake smile crossing his face as he picked at the hem of his sweater.

"I can see the lie in your face. Let me guess, a hundred dollars?"

Toris grimaced. "I told you, don't worry about it."

"Ugh, come on." Katyusha groaned, digging through her small denim purse and pulling out a wad of twenties from her wallet. "Will two hundred do it?"

Toris's jaw dropped. "I c-couldn't—"

Katyusha sighed, shoving the money into an unwilling Toris's hands. "Take it. Maybe it'll help you actually buy some clothes this time."

"I-I, ah, t-thank you," Toris stuttered bewilderingly, pushing the memories triggered by the statement out of his mind and giving her a shaky but grateful smile.

"Now, one more thing—we've decided to move back to Russia."

Toris flinched, staring at the woman with surprise. "What...?"

"Yeah. After the incident with you guys, Natalya and I decided that it's the best place for Ivan. We all liked it much better there, and plus, he didn't seem to be as... Well, you know—while around other Russians."

Toris felt like a weight was being lifted from his chest. Ivan was going to be far, far away; so far away that Toris would hopefully be sure to never see him again.

"When do you leave?" Toris asked, trying to mask the rather joyful undertones in his voice.

Katyusha glanced at her watch. "Oh, crap, our plane actually leaves in three hours. We've gotta get going."

She stood up abruptly, making Toris stand as well. "Well, it was nice meeting you."

She stuck out her hand, which Toris shook rather weakly. "E-eh, you too."

She nodded with a smile, and turned to leave. At the doorway, she looked back and made eye contact with Toris. "I hope you get better soon. Goodbye, Toris."

He nodded, sitting down again as she closed the door behind her. He wasn't sure how such a kind woman could be the sibling of... That.

He suddenly felt very alone as he laid back on his cot, staring at the white ceiling tiles above him. He wasn't sure why.

* * *

Toris was lounging in his dorm room, listening to piano music and eating chips while reading a book. All of a sudden, a loud ringing from his flip-phone made him jump and spill the chips across his comforter.

He snatched the phone from his bedside table, groaning when he saw the caller ID.

He flipped it open and held it to his ear, trying to pick up chips as he talked. "What do you want?"

"Well good afternoon to you, too." a drawling voice with a Polish accent told him. "I was going to ask if you wanted to, like, go to the mall with me."

Toris froze, suddenly reminded of the dream he had had the prior night.

 _Bloody hands grasping at his throat. Piercing purple eyes staring into his soul; gleaming white teeth baring—_

"Toris? Hello, are you even listening to me?"

The Lithuanian man took a deep breath. He still got the dreams. Horrid, bone-chilling dreams that lingered with him all throughout the next day, sometimes causing him to black out for a moment. Gathering his thoughts, he attempted to calm himself by thinking of things he loved, just like his therapist had told him.

 _Sunsets. Wool sweaters. Hot cocoa. Fe—_

"Hello? Toris, if you don't respond, I'm gonna, like, come over there and—"

"I'm here, I'm here, sorry..." Toris said, his cheeks turning pink as he tucked his hair behind his ear wearily.

"So...? Do you want to give it a try? It _has_ been three months..." Feliks said in a small voice. Evidently, he was just as nervous and frightened about going back to the mall as Toris.

Toris knew that there was no way Ivan could attack them again, but inside, he couldn't help but worry about what would happen if another person decided that he or she wanted their blood. On conflicting terms, he knew that they both would have to get over that fear someday, as with every other dread and problem in life. Feliks had just had the courage to step up and try to make overcoming their fear easier, so Toris decided to suck it up and, as they say, take one for the team.

"Sure, I'd love to go to the mall with you, Feliks."

This time, his words came straight from his heart.


End file.
